


Tea and Toast

by littlemisscurious



Series: Days In Our Lives [33]
Category: Actor RPF, Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Death, F/M, Family, Gen, Grief, Loss, Memories, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:16:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisscurious/pseuds/littlemisscurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>another great prompt I've received...the title is inspired by Lucy Spraggan's song "Tea and Toast"</p>
    </blockquote>





	Tea and Toast

**Author's Note:**

> another great prompt I've received...the title is inspired by Lucy Spraggan's song "Tea and Toast"

****

**Tea & Toast**

 

“I still remember every single moment with you,” I manage to choke out, new tears spilling out of my eyes and dropping onto the pale skin of your hand. “That holiday in the house by the lake, that...I was so nervous. I was scared you might push me away. I was scared you might tell me that we’re just best friends and nothing more,” I whisper, reliving that summer morning all those decades ago in my head, when you were so angry and jealous at my then ex-girlfriend. I think I never told you how adorable you looked that morning, how much I loved you back then already.

Slowly, I let my eyes roam over your fragile body, lying in this white, sterile hospital bed, all those machines around you beeping and making rasping noises as they pump air into your lungs and the blood through your body to keep you alive for now. “Or that evening at the charity event…” I blush a little despite being alone with you in the room and no one listening in. But it is a private memory, an intimate one. “We were so young back then, so carefree and adventurous. We’ve changed over the years, of course we have. We’ve had our ups and downs, our fair share of arguments and make-up sex, the latter sometimes being the only reason we were arguing in the first place.” I chuckle quietly to myself and press a kiss onto your hand, not sure whether you can still feel it or not.

 

“And I still remember the moment you told me we are having a baby. I...I couldn’t believe my luck. Not only did I find the most clever and beautiful and wonderful companion but you were also willing to have a family with me. You made my life so much more perfect, so much more worth living for. You made me enjoy every passing second. Every morning I woke up next to you and every evening I was lying in bed with you, watching you, those tiny little wrinkles on your forehead slowly disappearing as you fell asleep, was perfect.” I watch your face now, the pale, wrinkled skin almost translucent, causing the veins to look darker while your freckles are just as beautiful as they always were.

“I know it wasn’t always easy. The first pregnancy was a roller coaster ride, the few months afterwards were hell for you.” Again I stop and let my hand run over my aged face, a mirror of my life in the limelight. “That evening when I came home and you sat there with Noah in your arms, holding him so gently, protecting him from all the evil in the world...I will never forget that image, my love. I will never forget that you gave me the three most beautiful children in the world, that you raised them to become passionate, yet polite, ambitious, yet considerate, and just overall wonderful human beings. You can be so proud. I am so proud,” I whisper, tears now constantly flowing down my cheeks as I rest my forehead on the duvet.

“I don’t want you to go. I can’t lose you. Not yet. We still got so much to do, so much to discover. We still have to live, my darling. Please, don’t go. Please don’t leave me here,” I cry into the fabric, clinging onto your hand, hoping you will stay with me as long as I don’t let go.

 

The door behind me opens quietly and I can hear people shuffling into the room, one after the other, before three hands come to rest on my back. “Dad,” she whispers, gently squeezing my shoulder and, still sobbing quietly, I sit back up and look at her, at our beautiful, grown-up daughter Vivienne with her dark brown hair, which she has clearly inherited from her mother, from you. “Hey,” she mumbles and pulls me into a hug wherefore I bury my face in the fabric of her shirt as she stands next to me, her hands gliding softly through my white hair. Our sons are next to her and me, one on either side. Noah to my right, Leopold to her left, their eyes resting on you.

I can hear them cry quietly as they say their own goodbyes to you, their mother, their rock and haven for all these years. I smile a little as they each press a kiss onto your forehead, the same thing you used to do to them for years when we’ve put them into bed together. That kiss meant protection for them, it meant safety and love. It meant family.

And it still does now.

 

I close my eyes for a moment as the door opens again and another person enters the room, clad in white, black-rimmed glasses on his nose. He is a nice man, I know that. But his presence here means nothing good now. I know the machines would be turned off at some point. But for me, whatever point in time they chose, it would always be too soon.

“Mr Cumberbatch?,” he addresses me quietly and I look up into his friendly, compassionate face. I know it affects him, too, and he has been good to you ever since you have been brought here. Yet he is also the one who will eventually take you away from me forever. Despite my bleeding heart, I nod at him before I look back at you, your hand still resting in mine, your faint pulse under my fingertips at your wrist reassuring me for the last time that you are still alive.

He examines you once again before looking at the four of us. “It’s time. I’m sorry,” he whispers, turning off the machines, one by one _by one by one_ ….You still look like you’re sleeping - peacefully, without nasty dreams or horrible memories - as the pulse under my fingertips slowly comes to rest.

 

You’re gone, my darling.

And I can’t wait until we meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit my tumblr page http://w-is-for-writing.tumblr.com to find out more about my stories, my characters, and everything else you might be interested in :)


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